An Unlikely Pair
by BlueBastard
Summary: The Wasteland is rough, harsh and demanding. Then again, so is Jericho. Will the Lone Wanderer survive one without the other? And is Jericho willing to give up the only light he sees in the darkness? F/M
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I do not own nor intend to use Fallout 3 for monetary gain.

-o-o-o-

"I swear kid, you move one more time, and I'm tipping this bunk bed over and you better pray it doesn't crack your skull in the process." His deep-throated growl resonated somewhere beneath the time-worn and torn mattress beneath me.

"Stuff it, Jericho." I snapped back, not in the mood for his gruff demeanor, "We've traveled god knows how many miles, took down a whole pack of Super mutants on top of the usual raiders, and you're whining because of a little squeaking?"

"No, I'm whining cuz a certain little miss princess on the bunk above me won't stop fuckin' shiftin' around. Can't get a goddamn wink of sleep in." His voice was slightly raised. A sure sign of his elevating pissed meter.

Knowing I was asking for it, I leaned over the edge to stare at the ex-raider as I made a pouty face, "Aww… does the big bad mercenary need his beauty sleep?"

It had been a while since I had seen his face, ever since he took to wearing that Tesla armor, all I ever saw was its cold grey exterior as lightning rhythmically skipped across its metal surface. So I was a little taken aback by that familiar, stubbly scowl and that piercing dark brown gaze. Ever since I had left Vault 101, I had learned quickly to be prepared for anything with every breath I took.

This… was not one of those times.

Raised on his elbow, his other arm shot out and grabbed me by the collar. I had enough time to widen my eyes before he grinned, yanking to complete the motion before I was dropped to the ground like a mutant's sack of limbs. My pride was wounded as much as my ass as I glared at him through my raven-colored bangs.

He stared at me silently, still perched on the bed as I sat up on the floor.

"Jericho, you ass." I scowled.

He snorted then, mumbling off a "Night kid," as he flipped over, the back of his close-shaven fuzzy head facing me.

Sighing, I shook my head and picked myself all the way off the floor. I just didn't know what to make of him. Some days he was nearly tolerable. Others, he was his usual jerk self. I don't even know what he was still doing traveling with me if I frustrated him this much. Hell, why was I still traveling with him?

Glaring daggers at the back of his head, I clenched my jaw as I came to a final decision.

It wasn't until he was snoring softly away that I slipped into Linden's Outcast Power Armor. Dogmeat whined from his huddled corner of the tent, but I shushed him with a silent finger to my lips. For good measure, I shook my head slowly even as I put on an Enclave power helmet I had resurrected from one of my kills. I divided up the loot equally in half, though it was a bitch not making any noise with all those bottle caps, and placed them in a sack next to the mercenary's favorite weapon, the Shiskebab. I smiled at the memory of how his face lit up when I made the weapon. With the portable tank you had to wear like a backpack, I found it too bulky, but had wanted to breath life into the schematics I had found in some abandoned ruin. While it was wicked cool, what with the blade enshrouded in flames, it wasn't for me.

Jericho was only too happy to knock aside my fear of wasting it.

Dogmeat whined and pawed at my armored feet as I headed towards the exit. Unable to turn down that wolfish pout, I sighed and jerked my head, mutely telling the dog to come with me. Immediately, his tail began wagging again. He had already been abandoned once, I wasn't about to do that to him again. Hefting my own favored weapon, the A3-31's Plasma Rifle, I walked out of the tent, securing the flap and double checking the tripwire before heading off into the night.

-o-o-o-

"Dogmeat, I think I bit off a little more than I could chew…" I muttered softly, hand over my abdomen as the other restrained him by the scruff of his fur. Not that he was going anywhere, his four-legged stance protective even as he guarded me behind our stone cover, nose scrunched as he bared his teeth silently. The silent growl wasn't so much directed at a person as much as it was in the general direction of the fighting.

My hand was covered in too much blood for me to get a good grip on my rifle.

It wasn't so much the fact that we had been caught off guard as it was the missile launcher one of the Super mutants had in his arsenal. The shrapnel from it cut me good in the side, even as the explosion blew me to where I currently lay, propped up against a boulder. What was wrong with me? I've handled worse wounds, lay in worse situations, before.

I was just so… distracted.

Angry at a weakness I couldn't describe, I reached into my bag and fumbled with a stimpack. But my hands were shaking too much. Had I lost that much blood already?

On the other side of the boulder, a couple yards away, I could hear Fawkes roaring above the whine of his machine gun. No doubt holding his own. But I couldn't just leave him to fend for himself. Concentrating back on the needle, I attempted to wrench off the cover with my other hand, but the blood only made my fingers slide against the plastic encasing. Cursing, I raised the stimpack to my mouth, planning on ripping it off with my teeth.

Dogmeat growling fiercely beside me warned me before my eyes even raised to see them. Three centaurs, their grotesque tongues and limbs flailing, slithered slowly towards me. Dropping the stimpack, I quickly rolled to the side as acid sizzled the boulder where I was moments ago. I cried out in pain as I landed, momentarily unable to move any further. I looked up with widened eyes at certain death.

Dogmeat was a streak of black and white fur, tackling one and ripping out its throat before going for the other. But even with the second preoccupied, there was still one more. I pushed myself up agonizingly to one knee, combat knife dragged out of its sheath with my less bloodied hand. I would have preferred my Deathclaw gauntlet, but I wasn't in a position to strap it on in time.

It was close enough that it no longer needed the acid attack, and it rushed forward eagerly.

"You wanna piece of me?" I demanded, steeling myself for the attack.

Suddenly a glint of metal pierced its pulpy chest from behind, making it cry out even as it burst into flames. The metal disappeared back into its bleeding hole before making a swift reappearance as it lopped off the ugly creature's head. I watched with disbelief as the burning, beheaded form sagged to the ground like so much slime.

When I looked up, it was to the crackling intensity of a plated suit, and two burning orbs behind a Tesla helmet, "Yeah… I do."

I just stared, dumbfounded. With the way the chest plate heaved with his ragged breaths, he was obviously either very winded, or very pissed off. Or both. I eyed the Shiskebab he still held in his grip a little nervously.

"J-Jericho?" When I finally found my voice, it was so dry it cracked, "I split the loot evenly. I didn't cheat you, I swear."

He stalked towards me and all I could do was watch him, wondering if he would behead me as cleanly as he did the Centaur. I was helpless like this. I've killed Raiders, Bandits, Mutants, and creatures too ugly to name. And now… now what it came down to was this? Coming to my side, Dogmeat let a growl slip out of his throat, ears back.

"Shut yer yap, mutt." Jericho snarled at the dog, staring Dogmeat down.

The very air around the ex-bandit burned, and it was not because of the Shiskebab. His eyes glared with such unbridled fury behind the helmet, that even Dogmeat eventually cowered back, tail tucked between his legs. I found myself shrinking back as he came to crouch before me.

Normally, I was not prone to fear. But this was the one person who I had trusted with my life, who had stuck with me through thick and thin, and who I still couldn't bear to raise my knife, or any weapon, against.

"I swear Jericho, it was an even split." I found the words spilling out of my mouth as he grabbed me gruffly by the collar, "I admit, maybe I should have giving you notice ahead of time, but I didn't think you'd mind. Unless… you thought you deserved more loot?"

He paused at his words. I hadn't thought it was possible for him to get any more upset.

I was wrong.

Ripping off his helmet, he fixed that heated stare on me as he dragged me closer. So close my nose almost brushed his.

"You… just don't get it, do you?" He growled.

Then, before I could say, or even think anything on a reply, I felt a sharp jab into my side. Looking down, I saw the stimpack emptying its contents into me, just beside the gash. I was lightheaded, and I felt my eyes drooping closed. As I felt the darkness descending, I lolled my head back to look up at the mercenary. There was something, some emotion on his face that I just couldn't pin down.

"Jericho…" I mumbled, before I felt my body relax its muscles one by one.

I felt him place me carefully on the ground, even as I spiraled into unconsciousness. Just before I went, I heard him give a gruff order for Dogmeat to stay and guard me.

-o-o-o-

When he had seen her, raven hair plastered by sweat and blood to her forehead, her usual messy bun unraveled, Jericho couldn't help getting as pissed as he was. What had she been thinking? Running off on her own. Not even telling him…

Being left behind left a bad burn that slid down his throat to his gut, settling in uneasily. Hell, he didn't know why he felt this way. He didn't even understand half the shit that came out of his own mouth. When he saw those ice blue eyes close shut behind exotically thick-framing lashes, he couldn't help the knot of worry that twisted in his chest. He was a mercenary for god's sake.

And before that, he had made a living off of other people's suffering. At the time, it seemed like the only option. Kill or be killed. Scavenge or die. Loot or be looted. It was so simple. Until that one time…

Jericho shook his head, clearing it. It wouldn't do to go daydreaming before rushing into a battle. He had told the mutt to watch her before sprinting off.

Unease fluttered within his gut. He didn't like going into a fight unprepared. He had met the Super mutant Fawkes maybe once before. He could only hope the other would recognize him as well.

He couldn't help the sting of realizing she had left him for the company of the large mutant. Did she think he could protect her better just because of his immense size? Jericho growled as he charged forward, slicing through a Super mutant attempting to get at Fawkes from behind.

All Fawkes could see was Jericho, and with the way he turned his machine gun, the mercenary was getting a bad feeling at how he had to look like to the mutant. Jericho raised his blade, inches from being torn through like a jackhammer, when the machine gun suddenly died down.

The intelligent Super mutant frowned, "I know you…"

"Yeah, let's save the chitchat for later, shall we?" The bearded ex-bandit growled, hiding his immense relief at the close call.

Fawkes frowned deeper, but only nodded before both turned back to back and continued the battle.

-o-o-o-

I emerged briefly from unconsciousness to find myself cradled in Fawkes's large arms. I felt like a tiny porcelain doll in them.

The mutant didn't realize I was awake, as he was too busy arguing with Jericho.

"-don't see why she keeps company with the likes of you." Fawkes commented.

"I could say the same." Jericho replied gruffly, a puff of smoke trailing into my vision.

"Why must you continue to poison your body with that when you have no mutations?" The muscled mutant frowned, and I could feel his agitation rumbling through from his chest.

"Why must you keep up with the useless questions?" Jericho demanded.

"Perhaps you do not care about your own body, but think about Frost. She is still healing." Fawkes continued, undeterred by the mercenary's demeanor.

There was a lull in the conversation, and I saw another large puff of smoke drift past. Then I heard the sizzle of a cigarette dying in a small puddle of irradiated water.

"Don't feel much like smoking anyways…" Jericho muttered.

I was surprised. With how much he always went on and on about how hard it was to find smokes these days, and how he pretty much breathed as much as of the stuff as the rest of us breathed air, why would he waste one just like that? Not sure what to think, I felt myself drifting back to the warm depths of sleep.

-o-o-o-

Jericho frowned. He could've sworn he had just seen the kid move.

Nah, must've just been his overactive imagination.


	2. Chapter 2

I awoke on a cot, my side throbbing almost as much as my head. As I reached an exploratory hand down my side, I felt the bandages and winced from the movement.

"Kid…"

I started at the voice.

"Oh shit!" I exclaimed, jerking my head towards to figure in the corner of the tent. The action alone invited a flash of pain to lance up my spine, and I cursed, "Fuck, Jericho… don't scare me like that."

But he continued as though I hadn't interrupted, "…you and me… we gotta talk…"

I blinked, settling down as I paused to observe the unusually serious man before me. He sat on a chair opposite my cot, elbows resting on his knees as he leveled me with an unwavering stare. His tesla armor was still on, but his helmet was off for once, his face unflinching even as the electricity zapped millimeters from the scruffy, yet-to-be-shaved morning shadow he always had.

I felt a slow nervousness start from my fingertips and end at my toes. This was it. He may look calm now, but I knew this kind of calm. It was the kind he would lapse into right before we stormed into a huge battle. I must've upset him more than I thought.

I swallowed thickly in my suddenly dry throat. My mind tried running through all the scenarios and possibilities of how I must've pissed him off so badly.

"Look, Jericho…" I started slowly, running a hand through my hair. Even that motion sent me wincing, however, and I stopped in mid-movement and settled with fixing my gaze at the crumpled sheets over my knees, "Was it the cut? 'Cause you know, I split it evenly in half. No cheats. I swear."

"No, it wasn't the cut…" He trailed off slowly, the resulting silence scratching at me worse than a Deathclaw on a good day.

The tent ruffled stiffly in the slight breeze. I could hear the constant drip of a nearby water source, each plop driving deeper into my skull. Even the sound of Dogmeat's padding paws right outside the tent's flap wore at my nerves. We sat there in that same silence for so long, that I felt my nervousness shift to frustration, then anger.

"Then what the hell is the problem, Jericho?" I snapped, tossing the blankets aside as I settled my bare feet on the ground, facing him. I barely winced as the action pulled at my healing wound, old scars flaring up, and clamoring for attention.

I was in my usual grey shorts and small white beater, since sleeping in armor was just a pain. Unless we were in hostile territory, then it was a necessary precaution. But I could hear the large, repetitive stomping outside, and since we weren't dead yet, it must've been Fawkes on lookout duty.

Jericho's normally narrowed eyes frowned even deeper, and he opened his mouth, looking to yell. But then he stopped himself, taking a closer look at me. Thoughtful, almost. Which was ridiculous, given the guy we were talking about. This was Jericho for cryin' out loud! Ex-bandit, mercenary extraordinaire. I had even heard he broke Jenny Stahl's bleeding little heart back at Megaton. Of course, I don't know if the rumors of them sleeping together were true, but I wouldn't be surprised either way.

"Fuck it. Just forget I said a goddamn thing, okay?" Jericho growled, standing.

"Wha…?" I trailed off, "You didn't even say anything."

"Exactly." He replied smartly, before walking angrily towards me, "There is somethin' that's botherin' me, though, that I need to get off a my chest."

I stood to meet him, holding back a wince of pain as I did so, not about to cower or appear weak in any way. I shouldn't have done it even when I was wounded. Cowering was a weakness. Weakness out here in the Wastes gets you killed. Even if it was by a mercenary you thought was your friend. I had heard enough horror stories to know to always watch your back. Not to mention I'd been stabbed in that same position enough to be wary.

I waited mutely for his question, returning the glare he was giving me as he stopped an arms-length in front of me.

"Why'd you run off and pick that mutie freak over me?"

My eyes widened a fraction. Well, that was unexpected. I should've known, though. Jericho wasn't ever anything but blunt. I'm just not sure which surprised me the most, that he still regarded Fawkes by that term, or the fact that he even cared who I chose to brave the Wastelands with.

"I… didn't." I finally replied, realizing after a few moments that he was still waiting for an answer.

His eyes regarded me closely, narrowing even more, before he finally backed off with a snort, "Hn, I thought as much."

"What's that supposed to mean?" My frown returned tenfold as I watched him nonchalantly lighting a cigarette.

The end glowed a bright ember as he sucked in, a trail of smoke filtering through his nose as he blew out before he replied, "That you're just as naïve and bright as when I bumped into you outside Moriarty's. Leavin' hired guns behind. Tryin' ta get yourself good and killed out here in the Wastes by yourself. You haven't learned anything. Out of the two of us, you chose to take the damn mutt! You realize how much we have to save his unthinking, smelly hide?"

"Hey!" I said indignantly, slugging him in the shoulder. Which, didn't turn out to be such a good idea, since I ended up just hurting myself on his Tesla armor. Not to mention it jolted me a little as a quiet 'ow' escaped my lips. Ignoring the insignificant pain, I continued, my anger rising as I noted the way he was grinning and holding back a snort, "I'll have you know I was doing just fine by myself before you or Dogmeat, or anyone else for that matter, came along! I don't need a mercenary anymore. You're fired!"

"Well ya can't fire me, 'cause I already fuckin' quit." He growled.

"Oh yeah, and when did this brilliant plan play itself out in your head?" I questioned dryly, rolling my eyes.

"Ever since you goddamn up and left me in that fuckin' tent, Kid."

"Oh yeah?" I started to say, but stopped short as his words penetrated the haze of anger that had gone over me. Blinking, I watched him take a few more hits on his cigarette before finishing lamely, "Oh."

A sense of sadness washed over me as I realized what I had done. But I guess you had to reap what you sow. This is what I wanted anyways, right? Now that we were no longer contracted, Jericho was free to go as he pleases. So then… why did it bother me more than I thought it would?

"So…" I said slowly, staring at nowhere in particular as I slumped down onto the bed, finally wincing from the sore and healing pains, "I guess this is it, then… huh?"

Jericho threw me a look that asked if I was goddamn stupid or what. Instantly, I felt my hackles rise. At my reaction, he merely chuckled and shook his head, "You're not gettin' rid a me that easily, Kid."

"What?" I demanded. I was so confused. Now more than ever.

"What, you think just 'cause you ain't payin' me salary no more means I can't travel the same goddamn route as you?" He asked gruffly, taking another, deeper hit before continuing, "Besides, you're a fuckin' lost case out here by yourself. Who do you think's gonna watch your back, make sure you ain't stepping on a fuckin' mine or steel trap? The mutie? The Dog? Right."

I couldn't help the small spark of hope that fluttered inside me, but I suppressed the grin that wanted to get out as I tried to make my point, "Listen, Jericho. I already told I don't need anyone or anybody, so-"

"No *_you_* listen, Kid." He said sternly, leveling me once more with that unwavering glare, "Ain't nobody tells me what I can and cannot do. I AM fuckin' going with you kid, so you might as well goddamn deal with it, 'cause that ain't changin'. And, for fuck's sake, you better think twice before skipping out on me in the middle of the night. You wanna leave? Fine. But make sure you're lookin' in my eyes and sayin' it to my face first. Otherwise, there's gonna be a whole lotta shit going down. I'm not gonna take thinkin' you're dead -a second time- so easily."

I was stunned. No, beyond stunned. I was so surprised I didn't have the slightest inclination towards anger at all. Behind all the cussing and tough words, his whole argument had boiled down to a single thing.

Jericho actually cared if I died.

Wow, that had to be the closest thing to him admitting the friendship that had formed between us. Heck, with all the shit we went through together, the only way we couldn't bond was if we were both made of metal and tin. Although, at times, the mercenary did seem to fit that description pretty well.

He gave me a weird look as I just sat there, jaw dropped. After a few minutes of the same thing he shifted his weight to his other leg, his brow starting to furrow in worry.

"And another thing. Don't EVER mention this to nobody, or I'm gonna rip out your tongue, got it Kid?" He growled, his demeanor relaxing a little bit once he had gotten that mean bit out of his system.

After I simply nodded my head, he grabbed his helmet from a broken down desk and stalked off. Just as he was exiting the tent, I could hear him mutter, "Fuck. Kid's makin' me soft…"

I couldn't help the small smile that tugged at my lips then.

-o-o-o-

Jericho continued grumbling to himself as he stepped outside, not noticing the big shadow of the colossal being that had stopped right in front of him. It was only when he had almost ran into him that the mercenary jerked back, shooting a crooked glare up at the green-skinned Super mutant standing solemnly before him.

The big guy was easily almost twice the mercenary's height and about three times his width, his clothes tattered and sewn together in a haphazard pattern. His lip was awkwardly stretched back into a perpetual, lopsided grin, though with his features it leaned more towards a snarl. It was a face that only a mother could love, and right now all its attention was honed on the hardened ex-raider.

Fawkes was easily 20 times stronger and could probably snap Jericho's neck with his pinky if he wanted to. But the mercenary wasn't ruffled. It wasn't only because he was knowledgeable about this certain mutant's behavior, but it was also because Jericho knew he could handle himself. He would have either his gun or his shiskebab out before the Super mutant could get anywhere near him in a menacing manner.

"Watcha want, mutie?" Jericho growled, spitting to the side.

Fawkes frowned a little at the name, but dismissed it as he continued, "I heard what was discussed inside the tent."

"Ah, you're a regular fuckin' snoop, aren't ya?" Jericho accused none-too-gently, his guard raising.

"Can't help it. Mutation tuned my hearing." Fawkes offered in explanation, not sounding sorry one bit as he continued, "I must pose a question, however."

"Fire away." Jericho sighed, walking a small distance from the tent as he replied.

He didn't understand what the girl saw in the creature. Sure, he could talk prettier than the rest of 'em. But that didn't change his nature. Could be that the Super mutant could go beserk and kill 'em all in their sleep. He didn't need to risk her life more than necessary, especially if it's just for a little Q&A session.

"Why do you wish to travel with her if your contract is null and void?" Fawkes contemplated aloud, his tattered clothes shifting as a dry breeze swept by.

"Those 1000 caps were shit pay compared to the profit that can be made out here." Jericho replied, lighting up another one.

"That answer is not sufficient to the nature of my question." Fawkes stated.

"Hey, I could ask you the same thing. What's someone so high and mighty in the karma scale doing travelin' with the fuckin' Scourge of Humanity?" Jericho shot back, taking a vicious puff of his cancer stick, relishing the disapproving look it drove from the mutant, "Or haven't you heard of all the deeds little miss Vault Kid's been doin'?"

Fawkes, unfazed, looked far off into the distance, "Titles… are not truly noteworthy. And actions… they cannot be judged from actions alone, but only by deep thought on the meditations before the act."

Raising a pistol towards the mutant, Jericho took a deep hit of his cigarette, exhaling as he replied, "I don't believe in all that thought crap."

The Super mutant didn't even flinch as the mercenary fired off a round. Behind Fawkes's big, muscled and bare feet, a radscorpion twitched, dead, on the ground. From this distance, Jericho would have shot himself if he had missed, since he had aimed for its weak spot, the stinger.

Jericho watched with dread as Fawkes's mutated face lit up.

"Aww fuck, I'm gonna wish I had just let the goddamn thing rip your guts out, ain't I?" Jericho muttered aloud, walking towards the dead exoskeleton as he cut into its entrails for the radscorpion gland.

"Do you see what I mean?" Fawkes said cheerily, "You could have let the beast attack me-"

"*Should* have." Jericho corrected between the cigarette hanging from his teeth, his hands busy tearing into the carcass.

"- but you did not." Fawkes continued, as though the mercenary hadn't interjected anything, "Despite your character and your demeanor, you have chosen the path of good. If a soul as tainted as yours can be saved, so can hers."

"Now hold on a doggone second." Jericho paused from his work, raising a blood-soaked hand in the air as he explained, "Now I only killed the damn thing before it got to you so I wouldn't get my ear chewed off by little miss sleepin' beauty back in the tent. 'Sides, all that ruckus would've just disturbed her resting."

"You are not helping your case." Fawkes stated matter-of-factly.

Frowning, Jericho glared up at the mutant, opened his mouth. Paused. Then closed it again. Instead of replying at all, Jericho simply ripped the gland out as gorily as possible, his narrowed gaze still fixated on Fawkes, before he just stood up and walked away.

"There is a reason you stayed, mercenary, and it is staring you right in the face." The mutant said aloud, taking a step or two after the other.

Jericho jerked his hand up, a supplemental gesture to the harsh words that followed, "*Not*… another word. I ain't never paid attention to preachers nor sermons since the day I was born, and I ain't startin' now."

While the smile didn't disappear from the mutant's face, he followed the ex-raider with his eyes until he had gone out of sight.

Dogmeat panted, tongue hanging out, as he decided to rest at the Super mutant's feet. Reaching past the bulky metal of his minigun, Fawkes gently patted the top of the dog's head, "I see why you keep him around."

Dogmeat barked happily in agreement.


End file.
